


Cleaning House

by manixzen



Series: Kinkuary 2021 [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Cleaning, D/s undertones, Draco in a French Maid outfit, Harry and Draco are both little shits, Light Spanking, M/M, Rimming, Smut, but not really, kinkuary, mostly clothed sex, playful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manixzen/pseuds/manixzen
Summary: It’s well past Draco’s turn to clean the house, but when has Draco ever given in so easily?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Kinkuary 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137941
Comments: 6
Kudos: 171
Collections: HP Kinkuary 2021





	Cleaning House

**Author's Note:**

> Kinkuary, Day 2  
> Prompt: clothed sex
> 
> Thank you, Han, for the beta! 
> 
> And thanks to Lily and Gwb’s #prefects-bathroom for getting this image of Draco so burned in my mind that he was bound to find his way into a fic. Hope you enjoy!

Harry stopped at the bottom of the stairs, straining to hear any sound from the bedroom where Draco had disappeared to after breakfast. They’d had another argument about household chores, with Harry expressing his frustration at being the only one who ever cleaned the place. After months of Draco insisting this was what house-elves were for, and Harry absolutely refusing to let the Malfoy house-elves come over to clean, the issue had come to a head that morning. 

After some raised voices and a lot of back and forth, Draco had stopped mid-argument, taken a long look at Harry, and agreed to clean the house without another word of complaint. Harry didn’t trust it. Draco was up to something.

It was still completely quiet upstairs, so after a long minute, Harry sighed and headed to the sitting room. He would give his boyfriend the benefit of the doubt for the moment and try to relax and enjoy the Puddlemere game. 

He plopped down on the sofa as he flicked his wand to the wireless to turn on the match. With doing the bulk of the household chores, Harry hadn’t had a day to just relax in far too long, and he was determined to enjoy it… even with the niggling knowledge that Draco wasn't actually going to make it this easy for him. Harry had never known the man to go down without a fight when he dug in his heels about something, not that Harry was particularly better about that front. But somehow, they made it work. At least, most of the time.

The announcer crackled on the wireless, and Harry let himself sink back, propping his feet up on the coffee table. The Wasps got off to a good start, their Chaser scoring the first goal of the game and their keeper blocking an opposing goal. Within a few minutes, Harry was absorbed in the game and completely forgot to worry about what Draco was most definitely up to. The Wasps scored another goal quickly, and Puddlemere changed out their keeper, much to Harry’s relief. 

As the new keeper finally made a save, Harry yelling out in relief, the floorboards near the stairs creaked. Harry glanced over briefly. Then stopped and looked back slower.

Draco was walking down the steps, taking slow steps in tall heels, his long pale legs clad in fishnet stockings flexing from the movements. Above the stockings, a short black skirt with an abundance of white ruffles peeking out bounced with every step. And just above the skirt, a black corseted top hugged his stomach and came to a rest just above his nipples. A French Maid costume, Harry’s barely-functioning brain supplied. Fuck.

Draco walked slowly into the sitting room, ignoring Harry altogether, before heading to the mantle of the fireplace. He pulled out his wand, poofy feathers sticking out of the tip. Bending over ever so slightly, Draco then began dusting the surface. His skirt bounced up at the motion giving Harry a glimpse of the curve of his arse, the bare skin above the top of the net stockings peeking out. Harry found himself unable to look anywhere else—wondering what was hidden underneath the ruffles.

After a stupified minute, Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. 

So, this was what Draco was up to—clearly expecting Harry to call off the whole cleaning thing in lieu of other activities. Harry gritted his teeth and tried to focus on the game, his eyes soon wandering back to the edge of the skirt. But Harry wouldn’t be diverted so easily. If Draco wanted to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary, well, two could play at that game.

Harry relaxed back into the sofa from where he’d unconsciously leaned forward at the sight and did his best to school his expression. His body was reacting at the view, regardless, but Draco didn’t need to know that. 

“Another goal for the Wasps!” the announcer yelled out, pulling Harry out of his haze. He had no idea how much he’d missed of the game and focused his energy back on the wireless, staring at the device in the hope that would help him pay attention. He managed for a minute before Draco decided the sideboard needed to be dusted next, stepping right in Harry’s view. 

Draco lightly dusted the surface with his feather-duster wand before starting to dust the front facade of the furniture completely unnecessarily. As he trailed the feathers down the wood, he bent at the waist, sending the ruffles upwards. The curve of his arse was once again visible, but this time Harry could see a hint of what was underneath. A black lacy thong peeked out from between his cheeks, and Harry had to bite his cheek from moaning out at the sight. His cock was filling out in his jeans as he imagined pulling the slip of fabric to the side and sinking into Draco’s tight hole. 

Before he could get a hold of himself, Draco turned his head, catching Harry’s eye, and smirked. 

The bastard. 

“I think you missed a spot,” Harry said, gesturing at the top of the sideboard. 

“Of course, sir,” Draco replied smoothly. Harry hadn’t thought he could get any harder, but he’d been wrong. As he felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his neck, he wondered if he’d overestimated his ability to play this game. Staying calm and collected wasn’t exactly his strength—especially where Draco Malfoy was involved. 

Draco finished re-dusting the sideboard and moved across the room, dragging the feathers along the wall, lightly dusting any surface as he passed it. Harry gave up on listening to the game and let his eyes follow the movement. 

Once Draco had finished all the surfaces within Harry’s view, bending over at every opportunity, he flicked his wand, the feathers disappearing. Another flick and a fluffy white cloth popped out. 

“I think the hearth needs a good scrub, don’t you, sir?” Draco asked, swishing over to the fireplace before gracefully falling to his knees. Harry dropped his head back, closing his eyes. He was definitely going to crack first. Harry once again wondered why he’d ever thought it was a good idea to date a Slytherin. 

Harry couldn’t keep his eyes shut for long; the show was all too enticing. He looked back up to see Draco on his hands and knees, his pert arse facing Harry. 

Draco began to slowly move the cloth in circles on the stone hearth, swishing his hips with the motion. Harry couldn’t call it cleaning; there was no way that Draco was doing anything beyond moving the ash in circles at this point, but Harry found himself caring less and less by the minute. The ruffles of the skirt hitched up from his bent-over position, giving Harry a clear view of the lacy knickers. Harry’s eyes travelled along the edge of the lace, down to the bulge between Draco’s legs straining against the fabric to the black ribbons travelling along the curve of his arse to a lacy garter belt. Harry adjusted himself, taking a calming breath. 

Draco stretched forward while pushing his arse further back, his arse cheeks spreading at the motion, and a choked sound escaped Harry. Draco glanced back over his shoulder, a smug look on his face. Harry didn’t bother trying to hide his reaction this time and slid off the sofa onto his knees.

“Get over here,” Harry said, already unbuckling his jeans.

Draco crawled over on his knees, the expression on his face showing he knew he’d won the game. Harry was sure he’d regret giving in so easily later, but for the moment couldn’t remember why he cared about who cleaned the house. 

When Draco got within reach, Harry grabbed him and dragged him roughly to him, pulling a noise of surprise from the other man. 

Harry kissed him hard and fast and then pulled back, letting his eyes rove over his boyfriend. He ran the tip of his finger along the edge of the corseted top, teasing the skin there. Draco moaned and let his head fall back as Harry continued down the front, his finger catching on the ribbons crisscrossed along the front, down to the billow of the skirt. He let both hands roam around Draco’s waist, flattening down the skirt as he felt the curve of his ass, travelling down further until he met skin, feeling the edge of the stockings and the ribbons holding them up. Harry ran his fingers along the edge of the ribbons, upward along the back of his thighs, to the swell of his arse, and up further, slowly, just a light, barely-there touch until Draco was shivering in anticipation. 

“For fuck’s sake, Harry,” Draco panted out. “Just touch me.”

“No.” Now it was Harry’s turn to smirk as he ran his fingers along the edge of the garter, along the top of his arse, meeting the edge of the lace panties and following the fabric back down along the edges of his crack, going lower still.

Draco leaned forward, bracing himself on Harry’s shoulder, breathing heavy. 

Harry leaned in and licked up his neck, still continuing with the light touches, never enough to be satisfying until Draco let out a positively ruined whimper. 

Harry chuckled. “If this is too much for you, we can stop.”

“You’re a fucking bastard; you know that?” Draco said into Harry’s shoulder, his body trembling. 

Harry smiled and grabbed his arse hard, pulling him tight against him and getting a surprised _eep_ in response. 

“So this was your plan, huh?” Harry licked his way down Draco’s throat, down his chest, finding his pink nipples as they peeked out above the white lace edge of the black tight top. He ran his tongue along the lace, dipping behind the fabric to tease a nipple. 

Draco threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair. “I was cleaning. You’re the one who stopped me.”

Harry pinched his arse cheek hard, earning a yelp. “You’re an absolute brat.”

“Yes, but I’m your brat,” Draco said, a glint in his eye. 

“That you are.” Harry spun Draco around, running his hands up and down his sides before gently pushing him down to his hands and knees. “Don’t move.”

Draco wiggled his ass in response, and Harry smacked one of his pert cheeks in response.

Draco only chuckled, but his laughter soon turned to a sigh as Harry bent down and peppered kissing along the edges of the lace panties. He hooked a finger in the thin fabric, lifting it just to the side, revealing a small, furrowed hole. Harry grabbed Draco’s hip with his free hand and ducked his head, licking at Draco’s entrance, running his tongue up and down the sensitive skin, but going no further until Draco was babbling nonsense, calling out Harry’s name along with strings of curses. After he felt Draco tremble beneath him, he dipped his tongue in, enjoying the noises the other man was making. He continued to lick and thrust his tongue, slipping a finger in alongside his tongue as Draco’s hole fluttered beneath his ministrations.

When Harry couldn’t take it anymore, his cock throbbing with the need to sink into his boyfriend, he leaned back on his haunches. Reminding Draco not to move, he finished unzipping his jeans, breathing a sigh of relief as he pulled out his aching cock, shoving his boxers just low enough to stay out of the way. 

Knowing Draco enjoyed the burn, Harry didn’t bother to loosen him further. He cast a wandless lubrication spell on each of them and then shuffled forward on his knees, not bothering to even pull his jeans down or off. 

Harry pulled the lace to the side and teased Draco’s entrance with the tip of his cock for a moment. 

“Get on with it, Potter,” Draco finally huffed out. 

Harry smiled, relishing in Draco being the frustrated one, before pushing in slow enough for Draco to adjust with the minimal prep. They both groaned in unison as Harry bottomed out. He waited a long moment for Draco to finish adjusting until a quick nod of his let Harry know he was ready. 

Harry grasped Draco’s hips and pulled back slowly, watching his cock slide out and then back in again, the rough fabric of his jeans pressed uncomfortably between them. But Harry left his jeans as they were, enjoying the sight of them rubbing on Draco’s sensitive arse cheeks, knowing they were only adding to the sensations of the other man. Knowing that Draco would know that he hadn’t even bothered to undress before taking him right there on the floor of their sitting room. 

Slowly and steadily, Harry continued to pull out all the way out to the tip of his cock before pressing in hard and firm. On a particularly rough thrust, Draco fell forward on his elbows with a moan. 

Harry leaned forward, draping himself over his boyfriend’s back, kissing along his exposed upper back, before whispering in his ear. “Touch yourself.”

Draco nodded shakily and braced himself on one arm, the other moving to his cock and stroking himself in matching movements to Harry’s thrusts until he cried out and came. Harry dug his fingers into the ruffled fabric around his hips and sped up, thrusting hard and fast, as a warm heat pooled in his gut. 

A few more thrusts and Harry cried out, his cock spilling out. He rolled his hips several more times, as he worked through the rest of his orgasm. Once he was completely and totally spent, Harry fell to the side, taking Draco with him and curling around him.

“Fuck,” Harry said into his hair.

Draco laughed softly, threading his fingers through Harry’s. “Should I dress up more often, then?”

“You can dress up whenever you want, love.” Harry smiled and kissed him under his ear. 

They laid in satisfied silence for a few minutes, and Harry's eyes travelled over the room from his vantage point on the floor, seeing the dust and mess that still needed to be cleaned.

“You okay?” Harry asked.

“Perfect,” Draco replied, turning to him and kissing him gently. 

“Good.” Harry pulled himself up, tucking himself back in and zipping up his jeans. He offered a hand to Draco, who smiled at him and kicked off his heels before standing up. 

Pulling him close, Harry kissed along the side of Draco’s neck, smiling as he said, “Well, that was a lovely surprise, but you’ve got some cleaning to do, so I’ll be over at the Weasley’s for the rest of the afternoon to stay out of your way.”

Draco opened his mouth in protest, his eyes narrowing, as Harry slid his hand under the skirt and pinched his arse.

“Don’t worry about cooking; I’ll bring home dinner,” Harry said, dropping a quick kiss on Draco’s cheek, whose mouth was still gaping indignantly. Before Draco could get out another word, Harry apparated on the spot to the walkway of the Burrow. He smoothed down his clothes, casting a quick spell to freshen up and walked up the path with a smile, having no doubt that his Slytherin boyfriend would find some creative way to retaliate. But, really, that was half the fun.


End file.
